Year 20 of Konoha, Konoha Village.
Uchiha Nian was an orphan. At least from the moment he could remember, he knew he was a child without parents.
All these years, he had been living on the clan's survivor pension.
The cold bed planks, moldy bread, expired milk, and a solitary room... Nian didn't know what loneliness meant, only that this life was his normal.
A kind-hearted uncle from the clan told him that his parents had died in the Shinobi World War, their lives swallowed by the merciless flames of battle.
But having grown up devoid of familial affection, he felt no real connection to this fact. He only wondered what his parents had done to incur such wrath that even the clan members avoided him, a mere child, like the plague.
He knew he wasn't well-liked. Some clan members treated him with the same disgust one would show a fly, especially a strange aunt named 'Yuko,' who always glared at him with a mix of resentment and fury.
At first, he thought it was because of his reclusive personality. But when he made his first friend, he stopped believing that.
'My sister told me people don't like you because of your parents,' Uchiha Kirin said while chewing on a tri-colored dango.
Kirin's words left a deep impression on Nian, as this was his only friend—the only one who didn't care about his background and treated him normally.
He sought out the man named 'Shana' and asked about his parents. The man reluctantly told him that his father was a traitor who had betrayed the village, committing crimes too numerous to mention. Not only within the clan, but the entire village wished they could tear him limb from limb.
Fortunately, this information was kept within the clan, and hardly anyone in the village knew he was that man's child—otherwise, the consequences would have been unthinkable.
After speaking, the man's expression turned complicated, and he said no more.
'What, so he was just a deserter...'
Dying in war yet betraying the village—isn't that just being a deserter?
Nian understood clearly that only the weak succumb to fear. Faced with a formidable enemy yet choosing to desert, he silently vowed to grow stronger and not repeat the same mistakes.
Thus, to become a powerful ninja, he began living frugally, and finally today, he bought his very first shuriken.
The clan's training ground wouldn't welcome him, so he went to the village's training field instead, only to be told that only ninjas and children from the ninja academy were allowed to use it.
This left him utterly helpless. At just five years old, he wasn't yet of school age, while Kirito was already in second grade. He could keenly feel the gap between their abilities widening at an alarming rate.
Having someone guide your training and figuring it out on your own are completely different matters.
The shuriken techniques he'd painstakingly practiced for so long seemed as effortless as eating or drinking to others. Merely keeping his thrown shuriken from missing the target required tremendous effort, yet Kirito could casually flick his wrist and hit the bullseye every time.
Kirito told Nian this was nothing special—his sister could simultaneously control the landing points of dozens of shuriken.
Kirito's older sister, named *Naori Uchiha*, just graduated from the ninja academy this year. She's a very gentle and kind big sister, but also incredibly strong.
But Nian didn't take it seriously, because in his heart, he always believed a ninja's strength was directly proportional to their age. Once they reached that age, they'd become just as powerful as Naori-nee.
Kirito quickly refuted him, saying there was a boy named Orochimaru in their class who was even more skilled than himself. However, his personality was even more withdrawn than Nian's, and he was also a poor child who lost both parents in the war.
"Maybe the three of us would have a lot to talk about," Kirito said, because his father had also died in the war.
Mentioning this topic, Nian couldn't help but feel somewhat dejected, because he didn't want to use it as a means to make friends. His father was a deserter, which was not only dishonorable but also shameful.
On the street, Kirito grabbed Nian's arm. 'Come on, I'll take you to find him.'
'Find who?'
'Orochimaru.'
\"This... this doesn't seem appropriate...\" Nian said hesitantly.
Kirito tilted his head, flashing a bright smile. \"Big sis always says, the more friends you have, the more paths open up. When you start school next year, we'll both have your back.\"
He laughed, grabbed Nian and walked away, but in a hurry, he bumped into a wall head-on and fell flat on his backside.
"Ouch." Kirito rubbed his head, and Nian quickly helped him up. A tall figure blocked the sunlight, casting a long, oppressive shadow.
Kirito then realized that he hadn't run into a wall, but rather, he had bumped into a person.
\"Sorry, sorry!\" He quickly stood up to apologize.
The man wore a mask, with medium-length disheveled hair, and just his eyes alone looked fierce and menacing.
\"Watch where you're going, kid.\" The man spoke in a rough, low voice that sounded somewhat muffled.
The two young Uchiha immediately nodded like chicks pecking at rice, watching as the man entered an izakaya by the roadside.
The man casually ordered a few dishes and sat down by the window.
\"What a hassle. I didn't expect Konoha to be this big,\" he muttered to himself, his tone slightly complaining.
Just then, a curious voice drifted over from beside him.
\"So, this is your first time in Konoha?\"
The man turned toward the voice and saw a young man dressed in black. Noticing his gaze, the stranger casually walked over and plopped down across from him.
The young man's figure was tall and straight, his long hair thick and jet-black, like the deepest corner of the night sky, naturally falling over his forehead. His eyes were gently wrapped by a black satin ribbon, concealing both his gaze and the blue heavens above.
'I came here once a long time ago, but never had the chance to look around,' the man responded in a low voice. For some reason, upon seeing the young man before him, he felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity.
'I see,' the young man smiled faintly, raising his cup to take a sip.
The man's gaze was sharp as lightning, as if trying to pierce through the black satin to meet the other's eyes directly. 'Can you see?'
'Can't see? Just a minor sensory ninjutsu, nothing remarkable.' The young man paused. 'Compared to the infamous Kakuzu-sama of the Bounty Station, it's hardly worth mentioning.'
The man narrowed his eyes. 'You know me?'
'The man who once attempted to assassinate the First Hokage. I've long heard of your reputation.'
Kakuzu leaned forward, scrutinizing the young man's features—his well-defined facial structure and sharp lines were undeniably handsome, even without seeing his eyes.
"What a coincidence, you look very familiar to me too."
"Being recognized by you doesn't bode well—I might just be one of your bounty targets." The young man maintained his gentle and respectful demeanor.
Kakuzu said, 'Remove the black blindfold and let me see your eyes.'
"My apologies, but that's the one thing I can't oblige." The young man's laughter carried a hint of remorse. "The time hasn't come yet."
Kakuzu rummaged through a stack of posters on his own—bounty notices taken from the exchange office—flipping through them one by one until he pulled out the last page, holding it up to compare from a distance.
\"You are...\" Kakuzu's pupils contracted as he looked at the bounty notice in his hand, *\"Uchiha Kamihane?\"*
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